All Things Nice » Band of Brothers

54: Memories

"Yeah, Sergeant Randleman," Miller confirmed.

Posey smiled. "Then you'll be absolutely fine. He's great - looked after me in Normandy when I was hit, made sure I got to cover. He'll keep an eye out for you. All you've gotta do is listen to him and do whatever he tells you. Okay?"

"Okay," chorused the trio.

"You givin' 'em your gun speech?" Bill asked as they entered the barracks.

"No," replied Posey promptly, walking over to straighten her rifle where it had begun to slip in its place against the wall. Things were still a tad bit frosty between her and Bill, along with some of the other men, after the events in the pub last night, but she had no interest in taking the matter any further and could only trust that all she'd said to them had hit its mark. 

"What's the gun speech?" Garcia inquired, entirely unaware of what he was getting himself into.

Groans followed the question in unison, largely from the men in Posey's squad.

"The gun speech," she began, unable to hide her grin as she spun to face the room once more, "is reserved for those who exhibit less than satisfactory handling of their rifle. I generally dish it out on field manoeuvres when the men in my squad show me that they're in need of a reminder on how to adequately prepare their weapon." She shot a grin over at Hale and Soboleski, finding them already listening in. "You wanna give 'em the gun speech?" she asked. "Seeing as you've heard it so many times." There was nothing unkind in her words, which was perhaps what prompted Soboleski to take her up on the request.

"'Strap, windage, elevation, safety. Got it? You need to check all of them. How many times have I told you not to forget windage and elevation? These things are gonna save your life once you get into combat'," he recited, standing tall as he did so.

Posey clapped for him once he'd finished. "An exemplary student!" she cheered. Then she turned to Garcia, Hashey, and Miller. "That," she began, laughing to herself, "is the gun speech. So don't forget it. Strap, windage, elevation, safety."

"Stop lecturin' my boys, Duckie," drawled Bull from the other side of the barracks.

Posey giggled. "Then make sure they remember windage and elevation!" she called back.

When she caught Bill rolling his eyes she swatted at him playfully before turning and picking up her rifle. "Right," she declared, "I'm off to the -"

"Rifle range, yeah, yeah," George cut her off, feigning exasperation. "You and that fuckin' rifle range. What the fuck do you even do over there?"

"If you don't know what goes on at a rifle range perhaps you should be spending more time there yourself," Posey retorted, quirking a brow at him in challenge.

"I'm starting to think the rifle range is code for going off to meet a dame," Lieb remarked to the room at large, a smirk on his lips where he was reclining on his bunk. "You hiding some British broad from us, Duckie?"

"Perhaps I am," she replied slyly, wanting to laugh so badly that a giggle escaped her. Lieb would hopefully never know how right he'd been with that statement, for she was hiding a British broad from them - a British broad by the name of Posey Wells. "Guess you'll never know."

"Aw, come on, Duckie," Malarkey said, the joke going right over his head. He sat on his bunk with wide, curious eyes and couldn't understand why the room laughed in response to him. Everyone else knew she wasn't really off to see a girl but Malark had a tendency to take people at their word, a trait which was both wonderful and undesirable when in the presence of so many liars as he was.